


The Golden Note

by astraplain



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 07:22:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3842110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraplain/pseuds/astraplain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forced to help his kidnappers search for an ancient relic, Kurt didn't expect to find a hero in the middle of the jungle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Golden Note

“Sing.” The command was punctuated with a rifle jab to the back. Kurt lurched forward as far as the rope harness allowed and opened his mouth to obey. His captors laughed.

Barely mid-morning and Kurt was drenched in sweat from a forced march through the jungle. He was thirsty and the mouthful of tepid water he’d been given hadn't helped at all. His captors didn't seem to mind the heat, all eight of them dressed like movie villains complete with ridiculous amounts of weaponry. If he hadn't been kidnapped from the loft at gunpoint, blindfolded, drugged and flown to some South American jungle in search of an ancient relic, Kurt would be convinced he was having a very elaborate nightmare.

Croaking out the first few notes, Kurt flinched away from another rifle jab. Swallowing hard, he concentrated on the paper he’d been given and managed the rest of the verse passably. It was an ancient language, the man who seemed to be in charge told him. He’d also said not to ask for a translation, just to sing what was written. Kurt just nodded and did as he was told.

Midway through the second verse the ground began to shake. A press of the rifle warned Kurt not to stop singing so he tried to keep his voice steady and his eyes focused on the paper in his hands. The musical notes were faded, but the child-like block letters underneath were in fresh, dark ink that sometimes overlapped the notes on the next line.

He was so intent on completing the song without errors that Kurt didn't realize there was anything wrong until a projectile whistled past his head and the rifle-happy maniac behind him fell, nearly taking Kurt down with him.

Faltering, but unwilling to stop for fear of being shot, Kurt finished the third verse. There were twelve more to go. Three of his captors were on the ground, either unconscious or dead.

“Don’t let him stop!” Someone snarled to Kurt’s left and another man with a rifle was shoved into his personal space. “The rest of you come with me.” 

There was confusion and shouting and a distinctly unsettling wail of pain. The man beside Kurt looked around nervously, shifting his gun from one hand to the other. Two more verses completed and they were the only ones still in the small clearing. The shouting had stopped but the rumbling had intensified. Kurt had to use one hand to hold onto broken stone pedestal in front of him.

“If you value your life, keep singing,” his captor snarled before heading off in search of the others. Kurt glanced around wildly, then had to hurry the next few words of the song. Off to his left, someone screamed.

Verse eleven finished and Kurt was alone. There was a faint rustling behind him and he turned around, panicked and short of breath, temporarily losing his place. The rumbling changed pitch and the small, loose rocks around him vibrated.

Tentatively Kurt started the twelfth verse while trying to undo the rope harness that had been used to confine and control him since he’d been captured. His skin had been rubbed raw in a few places and he hoped it wouldn't leave scars.

“Keep singing,” someone shouted from what sounded like over head. Kurt backed into the crevasse of what might have been a small stone building and sang, weighing the possibilities for an escape.

A heavy thud sounded, followed by a curse and then a surprisingly pleasant voice took up the song.

Kurt peeked out of his hiding place and found himself face to face with a handsome blond man decked out like Indiana Jones, complete with whip. 

Kurt broke off the song to speak but the man shook his head sharply and tapped Kurt’s paper before holding up one of his own. Kurt ducked his head and sang, casting side glances at the man while they completed the song. They sounded good together, Kurt decided, it would be a pity if the man wanted to kill him.

Holding the last note, Kurt didn't realize what was happening until there were well-muscled arms pulling him close and holding him as the ground fell away.

“I've got you,” the man assured him as he cast his whip upwards where the end wrapped around a thick tree branch. They hung there, suspended over what was now a gaping pit with a narrow set of crumbling stone stairs leading from the pedestal down into darkness.

“Want to see what all the fuss is about?” the man asked as he casually swung them back and forth a few times to build up enough of an arc to land them safely near the top of the stairs. He coiled his whip and unclipped a flashlight from his belt.

“Wait.” Kurt put a hand on his arm to stop him. If he was descending into darkness with a stranger Kurt at least wanted to know what side he was on.

“Silly of me.” The man shifted the flashlight to his other hand and wiped the free one on his shirt before holding it out to Kurt in greeting. “Adam Crawford, good guy.”

“What happened to those other…” Kurt winced at the face Adam made, “You know what? I don’t need to know. As long as you don’t plan to kill or enslave me, we're good.”

“How about we take care of this little matter,” he gestured toward the stairs, “and then I shall take you home.”

“Deal, Mr. Crawford.” They started down the steps moving very cautiously with Adam in the lead and Kurt close behind so he could have benefit of the light.

“Sorry I don’t have another,” Adam apologized. “I usually work alone.”

“Like Indiana Jones?”

Adam hmm’d but didn't elaborate.

“So this is about an artifact? What museum do you work for?”

“Careful here,” Adam cautioned, helping Kurt over a broken step. “Not a museum by the way. Library.”

“Libr– Wait! Like The Librarian?” Kurt frowned, trying to remember what he’d read about one of New York’s most notable inhabitants. “You’re not Fl–.”

“No,” Adam cut him off quickly. “I’m not American either. I’m the _British_ Librarian. I have a better singing voice. Can you imagine him singing his way into this chamber?” Adam mumbled a few more things that Kurt couldn't hear, but he got the general impression that Adam Crawford wasn't a big fan of the other Librarian.

“So, wait. If you’re the British Librarian, what are you doing in the jungles of South America?”

“Besides the singing? Well that one has no problem nicking our artifacts. Thought I’d give him a hand with a few of his.”

“So this is all about inter-library rivalry?”

“Course not. We’re saving the world from evil and all that. I just do it with more style.” Adam paused a moment to navigate more broken stairs and ended up half- lifting Kurt over the debris. “We’re almost there. Just a bit… and… Done!”

Kurt would have liked a moment to look around, or at least catch his breath, but Adam was off at a fast pace and Kurt had to keep up or risk being left in the dark. It didn't hurt that the scenery was nice.

“Mind your step here. Poison darts,” Adam cautioned as he led Kurt through an elaborate zig-zag path toward the far wall where a large bird was carved, golden notes rising from its open beak.

“Care to join me?” Adam asked, pulling Kurt close and shining his light on a single musical note. Adam sang it first and Kurt joined in, following along as Adam chose what appeared to be a random selection of notes that curved up and and around the bird carving. It ended on a high note that was a stretch for Adam, but that Kurt could sing easily. It earned him an appreciative look before Adam refocused his attention.

The bird slid backwards releasing a gust of stale air that made them both cough. Adam offered Kurt a drink from his canteen and Kurt was very happy to accept.

“I should probably ask what we’re looking for,” Kurt said as he returned the canteen. Stepping past the bird carving, they were in a smaller but more heavily decorated room. As Adam moved the light around, Kurt could see paintings on the four walls and ceiling, and there appeared to be any number of items in piles on the floor. He was annoyed to hear his voice falter when he asked, “Is this a burial chamber?”

“Not exactly. Any corpses here would be tomb robbers and workmen sealed in to protect the King’s secrets.” Adam glanced back at Kurt to see how he was handling that information. Satisfied that he wasn't going to run away screaming, Adam pointed upward. “Listen.” He moved to the center of the room and sang a few soft words. Kurt could hear his perfectly.

“It’s a… concert chamber?” Kurt’s knowledge of archaeology came mostly from movies but he’d never heard of a hidden underground music room.

“More likely a chamber for the ruler to share confidential information with his advisers. The music was a side benefit.” Adam hurried over to the far side of the room where a painting of a tree filled with colorful birds covered the entire wall. There was a small golden bird near the center with what appeared to be an emerald for an eye. Adam examined it from several angles before pressing the emerald and standing back.

Kurt grabbed his arm and held on, just in case. He was almost disappointed when a drawer slid out with a faint click. Lifting up slightly he could just see into the cloth-lined cavity. The small clay bird figurine was a bit of a disappointment but he smiled when Adam let out a happy laugh and picked it up.

“Is that what you were looking for?” Kurt asked, only to laugh at his own question when Adam blew on the artifact delicately before lifting it to his lips. Kurt realized it was a whistle about two seconds before a shrill note pierced the air.

And all hell broke loose.

Birds of every kind and color appeared, all singing the same three notes. To Kurt it sounded like they were saying “welcome home”.

As the volume increased and more birds arrived, a faint glow filled the room. Kurt clutched Adam’s arm, afraid that the floor would give out or the walls or ceiling, but instead, an odd chiming sound grew louder until it sounded as if it were directly above them.

“Sing, Kurt,” Adam urged, matching the three notes of the birds. He scaled up, climbing higher until he had reached his limit. He gestured for Kurt to keep going. Higher. Higher. Until Kurt was hitting his upper limit as well, and then determination made him reach for one more note.

Every bird fell silent, hovering. The crystal sound faded, leaving only Kurt’s pure note echoing resonating through the chamber.

Adam touched Kurt’s arm and pointed upward. Instinctively Kurt held out his hand. A bird of pure crystal descended delicately, landing in Kurt’s hand, unexpectedly warm and heavy. It tilted its head and chirped at him. He chirped back, ignoring Adam’s muffled laughter.

“Don’t mind me. I’ll just–” There was a tiny golden key on a silk cord around the bird’s right leg. Adam tugged it loose, narrowly avoiding being pecked. He tried to pet the bird’s back to soothe it but the bird squawked at him. He only settled when Kurt started singing again.

“One more thing and we’re done,” Adam sang softly, shining his flashlight on a small keyhole disguised as a knothole near the center of the tree painting. Adam inserted the key and sang the three notes again. He repeated them as Kurt the crystal bird, and then all the other birds slowly joined in. The room shook and bits of dust and debris rained down on them as a platform raised up from the floor. On the platform was a single musical note in pure gold.

Adam used both hands to pick it up. He held it out for Kurt to touch, letting him feel the warmth and gentle vibration emanating from the ancient relic before Adam wrapped it in a soft cloth and put it in his backpack.

“Time to go,” he said as the birds started flying randomly, their pleasant song turned to screeching. “Go!” Adam turned Kurt and started rushing him toward the exit while the birds started diving at them, tearing at their clothing and skin.

“No!” Kurt cried as the crystal bird launched itself off his hand and let out a piercing note. The golden note in Adam’s backpack echoed and amplified the sound until all the other birds were driven back.

Defiantly the crystal bird led the way, singing to ward off any attackers. Instead of leading them back to the crumbling stairway, the bird led them off to the left and through a series of rooms and hallways all crumbling and overgrown. At last the bird stopped in front of a section of what appeared to be bare wall.

“Sing,” Adam urged before singing the three notes the birds had sung. Kurt echoed while the crystal bird let out a series of chimes and chirps. 

With a groan of protest, a section of wall slid open revealing a staircase leading up and, eventually out.

“We made it!” Kurt gasped once they were back in the jungle with no sign of his captors anywhere.

“We did,” Adam agreed cheerfully. The crystal bird circled above their heads twice then settled on Kurt’s shoulder, chirping. “You've made a friend.”

“I have,” Kurt said, reaching up to stroke the little bird’s head. “Although I don't know how–”

“Don’t question,” Adam interrupted gently, resting his hand over Kurt’s. “Some things are worth accepting.”

“They are,” Kurt agreed, eyes bright as he stepped closer to his rescuer. In the distance they could hear a helicopter.

“That would be my ride,” Adam said, looking up. “They must have finished cleaning up.” He looked at Kurt, suddenly serious. “Tranq darts. The men who kidnapped you will be spending quite a bit of time with the local authorities.”

“Oh.” Kurt felt a sudden wave of disappointment. “I guess you’ll be sending me home.”

“I will,” Adam assured him seriously before a brilliant smile broke through, “After you've helped me put this where it will be safe.”

“Safe…? ” Kurt lit up, the fear and exhaustion falling away as he realized what Adam was offering. “You’re taking me to the Library?”

“You and your friend,” Adam nodded at the bird. “I’m not one for leaving things half done, and you did help me find the golden note.”

“I suppose I did,” Kurt agreed, taking Adam’s arm and letting himself be led toward the plane. “Other than being old and gold, what’s so special about it?”

“You've never heard the story?” Adam looked positively scandalized. “The Golden Note of Harmony?” He stopped and stared at Kurt. “Universal peace through music?”

“I thought it was just an idea,” Kurt confessed. “I didn't know it was real.” He laughed at Adam’s expression, leaning closer to say, “You’ll have to tell me all about it.”

“Oh, I will,” Adam promised, stopping at the edge of the clearing where the helicopter waited, long enough to press a hand gently to Kurt’s face. “I've got a library full of stories just waiting to be shared.”

“I love a good story,” Kurt said, laughing when the crystal bird trilled in agreement.

“As an extra thank you,” Adam said once they’d settled themselves in the helicopter, “I’ll take you in the side entrance.” He leaned in close, his lips just brushing Kurt’s ear as he added, “It’s in an old theatre. Ever heard of The Globe?”

Kurt’s delighted shout cut off quickly as he threw himself into Adam’s arms. A short distance away, the bird landed on Adam’s backpack and sang a cheerful tune that resonated through the golden note, leaving waves of harmony in their wake.

 

::end::

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is sort of “The Librarian” crossover-ish


End file.
